By The Sea
by aparesarah
Summary: A few missing moments from Shell Cottage after Malfoy Manor in Book 7. This has been done before, but how could I not? Pure R/Hr fluff!
1. On the Beach- Pt 1

Disclaimer: This has been done before, I am aware. This is a part of my missing moments series where we see a little more of the Ron and Hermione we want to see in the books :) As always, I do not own these amazing characters, this magical story, nor anything about it. Just this idea that is on my terms. No one compares to the extraordinary J.K. Rowling! Cheers! ~aparesarah

This is the day after the events at Malfoy Manor at Shell Cottage from Hermione's pov. It is R/Hr and although it may not make sense on the timeline, I thought it'd be really cute. I love imagining what the two of them would be doing or talking about on their own away from Harry :) You know, the stuff we _don't get to see!_ Cheers! Xoxo. Please review!

 **By the Sea** | aparesarah

Chapter The First~

A gentle breeze drifted into the room as Hermione's eyes fluttered open. It was coming back to her- the events of last night. The torture. Ron's screams from below. The chandelier crashing. Bellatrix and Malfoy and the beach. Being led up to the cottage by Ron gripping onto her as if she'd be taken from him in an instant. Fleur had helped her change the night before into new sweatpants, and Ron had lent her an old Chuddley Cannons shirt. He had sat by her side as she rested before Dobby's funeral. He had sobbed next to her, holding her hand, admitting aloud that he'd kill the next person whoever laid hands on her. He had kissed her, though, she wasn't sure he had known she was awake for that. She had lain on her pillow blushing furiously while attempting to understand the Horcrux situation, which resulted in her sobbing herself to sleep out of frustration and determination.

The salt in the air was so thick, Hermione felt her head spinning again. It was throbbing, her body aching, and she could barely move her limbs. She sat up, groaning as she remembered, again, that she had been tortured just the night before. "Take it easy," she murmured to herself. "You're doing the best you can."

Her chocolate brown eyes searched her surroundings, noting the familiar Daily Prophets lining the walls- "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Forever At Large" and "Where in the World is Potter?" among the headlines. A globe sat on a small wooden desk in the corner of the room with an owl mobile hanging from above. A gift from Molly, no doubt. Hermione felt wrong questioning a pregnancy at a time like this, and shook the idea immediately.

Another breeze flew in from the window above her as she breathed in more salt. It was a beautiful smell and taste, Hermione thought warmly, minus it not really helping with her headache.

She stood on the wooden planks and listened to them creak as she made her way to the brass door handle and turned it.

It was dark in the hall, except for the baby stream of light coming from the living room at the end of it. Sunrise.

She crept toward the tiny living room and was surprised to see her redheaded friend snoozing in one of the hand-me-down recliners. She grinned and quietly sat in the love seat across from him.

She noticed the bags under his eyes, above the ominous splotches of freckles. He looked exhausted and she knew it was mostly her fault. He had been up worrying about her, because that was what Ron did.

She had noticed a change in him over the course of the last couple of months. He was treating her differently, though he was still her best friend. He hadn't been as moody with her and he was always asking for her opinion, her thoughts, her _ideas_ on things. Despite having left Harry and her behind in the woods out of a typical jealous Ron-rage, he was… different. Hermione wasn't sure if it was because they were now seventeen years old, or if it was because of the events happening around them. Either way, Ron was noticing Hermione and appreciating her for who she was. And she liked it.

It was no surprise to herself that she had been realizing her own feelings. Hermione perfectly well knew she had liked Ron for some time, even when they were younger. Over the years she had silently berated herself for liking such a git of a best friend at times. But there was no stopping it. Ron always made up for the things he did in other wonderful ways that sent Hermione's heart beating quickly and pale skin flushing with pink.

She wished she had been bolder at fourteen and had just asked him herself to the Yule Ball, but she had been stubborn. Just as stubborn as him, if not, more. She wanted him to ask her for months when he had the chance, but it was simply, too late. He ruined that one. She wished they had dated in their sixth year before recent events had happened, before Dumbledore's death and the beginning of their Horcrux hunt, but again, Ron's git self chose another, leaving Hermione to wonder if she had even been worth it.

But again, she reminded herself that her independence was everything she needed, until he'd come around eventually and catch up to her level. It finally seemed he was doing so. It was good timing, too, because Hermione needed to depend on someone for once. She was tired of being the caretaker. She needed someone to take care of herself for just once, especially after what had happened to her at Malfoy Manor.

"Hermione…" Ron said groggily rubbing his eyes. She forgot she had been staring at his snoozing figure from across the small space.

"Morning, Ron," she said quietly with a smile. He smiled weakly at her and leaned the recliner back into place. He stretched his lanky arms and legs out before standing up and hitting his head with a loud "thud!" on the ceiling tile.

"Bloody HELL!"

Hermione laughed and tried to shush herself before saying, "Shh, Ron, try not to- haha- try not to wake everyone."

He grinned and ducked down as he walked away and into the small kitchen next to the living room. She listened to him clinking pots and pans around (cringing as he did so) and saw his flaming red hair peek around the entry way.

"Wansuhtoas'?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Er, what, Ron?"

"WANSUHTOAS'?"

"Ronald, you're going to have to chew and swallow that mound of toast before- ohhh, yes! Please, I'd like some toast!" She laughed, and he nodded.

They soon sat together on the loveseat, munching on toast and bacon that Ron had fixed for the two of them. After a long night of sorrow, Hermione felt grateful for a hearty morning meal.

They ate in silence, but every now and then Ron would place a hand on the small of her back, rubbing it in circular motions. It made Hermione's knees go a bit weak.

"Hermione…" Ron started. "Do you wanna go for a walk with me?" He asked shyly, his freckled cheeks on fire.

She smiled at him. "Yes."  
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They walked hand in hand along the grimy beach, Hermione gathering a shell here or there and tucking it into the pockets of her sweatpants. They were both barefoot, and she was enjoying the feel of the sand grit as it squished between her toes. It felt weird to Hermione to not be talking for once. She was still shaken from the events of the previous night and felt at a loss for words. She was thankful when Ron grew brave and managed out a small, "Hey."

She looked into his blue eyes questioningly.

Ron groaned. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I'm so, erm, so bad at this."

"You aren't, Ron. It's okay. I'm still _me,_ " Hermione said giving his hand a squeeze, and he smiled warmly at her. She noticed he was still nervous, as he let out a small cough to clear his throat.

"The thing is… there are honestly, so many _bloody things_ I want to tell you, Hermione." He had stopped leading them along the beach and was now standing in front of her. He took her other hand in his, holding them both now and looking down into her brown eyes.

"I don't even know where to start," he whispered. Hermione squeezed his hand again.

He looked out at the water. "Start where ever makes you feel comfortable," she encouraged him.

He grinned.

"Okay. I know just where to begin." 

**To be continued…**


	2. Aftermath

**Disclaimer** : Again, I owe none of these amazing characters or world! It is all Jo Rowling's!

 **By the Sea | aparesarah**

Chapter the Second~

 _THUD._

He landed face first down in the muck and immediately lifted his head to find her. She was a few feet away sobbing into the sand, half-screaming.

"Hermione!" he yelled. He didn't recognize his voice at this point. It was so distant, so hollow. Broken.

She didn't stop. She lay in the sand kicking and thumping her fists against the hardened ground, screaming uncontrollably.

Ron, weak from the events at the Malfoy Manor, crawled over to her, and put his arm on the small of her back, "Hermione," he whispered.

She screamed and tore from under his grasp. Before he could blink, she was attempting to run toward the hill near the cottage where Bill and Fleur stood on the front rock porch. They were both unsmiling and alarmed. Bill mouthed, "We'll get her," but Ron shook his head. He needed to be the one to help her.

He immediately went after her, calling her name once more.

This time she whipped around, confused, and he saw her face break into a cry. "RON! I'M SO SORRY," she sobbed, as she buried her face in her hands, and he was there in an instant, holding her once more.

She held onto him tight and he let her. He motioned for Bill and Fleur to go back into the house, and they nodded.

"Hermione," he whispered, running his hands through her bushy hair. "I didn't meant to startle you. I'm sorry." He hugged her to him.

She swallowed and said, "I thought you w-were B-Bellatrix coming from be-behind."

"No," said Ron softly. He tried hard to control his anger at _her_ name. He needed to take care of Hermione. "She's gone, we got away," he breathed.

He pulled back from her. "Look at me," he whispered hoarsely. "What did that bitch _do to you?"_

Hermione lifted her sleeves and Ron gasped in horror. In addition to scratches winding up and down her arms, there was dried blood in her hair, cuts over her eyebrows, and fresh blood spilling from her bottom lip. On top of that, Hermione was swaying back and forth, as if ready to pass out there on the grassy hill.

Ron grew tears in his eyes. "I'm so, _sorry_ , Hermione. I wanted to be there, I tried-"

She smiled weakly. "Ron, it's okay. Really."

He held her to him once more and kissed her on the forehead. "I need to take you inside. You need to rest, after what you've been through."

She nodded into his chest.

"Can you walk for me?" he asked softly. She pulled away and attempted to walk again, but fell face first into the side of the hill.

She let out a cry.

"I'm going to have to carry you," Ron said reaching out his hand to help her up. She held on with all her might and as soon as she was standing, Ron scooped her up into his arms.

"Hold onto me, Hermione," he whispered softly, and she put both arms around his neck, burying her dirty face into his chest.

She was light, he noted, so it made everything easy. Ron carried her up the hill and into Shell Cottage where Bill and Fleur anxiously awaited. Bill was holding two cups of hot tea, and Fleur holding a bathrobe and sweatpants.

"Oh, my zweetheartz!" Fleur cried. "Take 'er into ze guest bedroom at ze end of ze 'all on ze right, Ronald! I'll be in very zoon!"

Ron held Hermione tightly as he walked with her down the hall and into the breeziest room of the house. Luna and Mr. Ollivander were in the room next door. He noticed a giant window was open above the wooden headboard of the bed as he walked in; a chest was in one corner of the room with an owl mobile above, and a small closet was on another side of the room with a mirror placed against the sliding doors.

Ron laid Hermione down gently onto the bed. He sat in the armchair to her right, watching as she drifted to sleep. She could barely manage to say his name before she was entirely out.

Ron was still in the chair after Hermione came out from her shower. She was wearing one of his old bright orange Chuddley Cannons shirts with a pair of Fleur's sweatpants, and her bushy hair was wet and wild.

"Oh!" she said surprisingly coming into the room.

Ron grinned. "Sorry, Hermione. This chair's really, erm, nice."

"Ron," she said quietly. "You don't have to stay in here anymore. I'm going to be fine, I promise." She shook out her hair and splattered water onto his face. "Sorry."

He breathed her in and noted that she smelled like lilacs. He watched as she looked herself up and down in the mirror, then crawled into bed. She was still shaking.

His electric blue eyes met her chocolate ones, and she reached for his hand. "On second thought, don't leave," she whispered.

Ron kissed her hand. "I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

In the night, after Dobby had been laid to rest and when he was sure she was safe and asleep, Ron reached over her dozing figure, and placed his lips to hers. He sat back in the armchair smiling. _Bloody hell, I just kissed my best friend_ , he thought. Now if only he could tell her he loved her…

 **A/N:** Hey guys! These are the shortest chapters I've ever written, mostly because they're meant to be that way. I've been working on a huge HP fanfic in my free time, so this is kind of a small project until that one is done. I haven't edited much or put in as much detail as I'd like. I'm also concerned I'm sounding a little OOC on Ron's part. But I guess I pictured him a little softer at Shell Cottage. Thoughts? I hope you don't mind it all so far! I appreciate your reviews! xoxo~aparesarah


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